Posts Tagged photography
Earlier this year I was interviewed by Spanish scholar and colleague José Antonio Gabelas Barroso and Lara Bernard of the University of Zaragosa. Today Gabelas posted the Spanish version of the interview on Entremedios, the excellent website of his journalism program.
The following is the English version, with Gabelas’ questions in bold:
Your career moves from photojournalism to the narratives transmedia related to journalism. Why this change?
Photojournalism does not occur in isolation from other media forms. It is almost always paired with words whether they are written or spoken. It is often sewn into complex multimedia forms such as video and cinema. I have long watched the whole media ecosystem though my specialization was the documentary photograph.
As I started my graduate studies I encountered the concept of transmedia storytelling while reading Jenkins’ Convergence Culture. This was 2009 and my mind was already very attentive to how journalism might respond to the incredible disruption caused by the internet. In Jenkins’ discussion of transmedia storytelling, I saw a method through which journalism could cease to “broadcast” and begin to perform “bundled narrowcasting.” Rather than attempting to deliver the same journalistic stories to all of the public at once, journalists could assemble a collection of narrowly targeted stories. A story network would be additive for those members of the public who saw enough value in the subject to explore more of the stories in the network.
The profession of journalism has more problems to solve than in the structure of its storytelling. Business models must be reinvented, ethical standards reinforced, and greater transparency of process encouraged. But the storytelling model needs change too.
In your blog, you reflect on multiple occasions about transmedia journalism, what is it that attracts you to write about it? What role does the image play in this new informative model?
Transmedia storytelling in any industry is not readily apparent to the public. Marvel, for example, doesn’t overtly tell its publics that they are the recipients of a transmedia story when they engage with Thor in a comic book, a game and a film. In the U.S. we would describe this as being “inside baseball,” meaning only those who play the sport know what you are talking about. Despite its ubiquity, transmedia storytelling is still something of a secret magic.
Most journalists are still unfamiliar with the idea of transmedia storytelling. We are a bit religious about what we do, often taking our production patterns and techniques as sacred. We unnecessarily tie our ethics to our practices when we should be tying those ethics only to the informative outcome. I felt the blog would help journalists begin to rethink some of those practices.
The image is as central to a transmedia story as it is to a single-channel one. Humans learn holistically, assembling knowledge and information from multiple sources that complement or contradict each other. Each broad media form —language, image, interaction, object, music, odor, flavor — communicates in unique ways with distinct advantages. The photograph is particularly powerful for allowing us to stare at a frozen moment that would otherwise be invisible, to stare at a moment and consider its impact. Video is much better at developing a narrative arc, but it lacks that considering stare.
In the current visual ecosystem, what brings the nature and function of the image as the bearer of meanings and information? Castells (1997) differentiates between informed, over-informed and uninformed, what are those who “only have images”?, do you share this opinion?
The misinformed or uninformed have always existed, suffering from limited exposure to information or selectively absorbing only the information that confirms fears or prior beliefs. There is nothing distinct about the image that fuels this, though. One can remain mis- or uninformed through language as well. We are able to see only what we want to see when engaging in any media. A well-crafted image can communicate quite deeply, and poorly or nefariously crafted words can communicate quite shallowly or deceptively. All media forms benefit from the intellectual and emotional collaboration of other media forms.
The image, like music, communicates emotion very effectively. The most engaging photojournalism capitalizes on this advantage, allowing us to feel the story along with the subjects depicted. Language more often communicates intellectually, delivering context and nuance. Though both are capable of either mode, the best result comes with their combination.
Is language alone better than image alone? Perhaps that is a subjective question that depends on the preferred mode of reception by the receiver. I have known voracious readers who I have found to be misinformed by a lack of emotional understanding. I have known those who “only look at the pictures” to form their understanding, and they lack the context or nuance of a situation. One person would argue that the context is most important, and another would argue that the emotional is most significant. In the end the situation of true “only have images” doesn’t functionally exist. Those who may say they only look at the pictures receive context through language and other media forms from hundreds of other places. The digital age embodies Ong’s concept of secondary orality, doesn’t it?
You’ve worked for several international media. Your photographs have been many times as cover in The New York Times. What does a photograph require of a cover, and a cover to a photograph?
A cover image must be a compelling window into another world (as in Barthes). It must attract the eye with a quick and compelling story that will draw a reader into more photographs or to a written story, video, VR experience, or other. It is an icon, embodying a collective understanding of the story. That can be quite dangerous if the collective understanding is at odds with reality; therefore, a photojournalist and an editor must be very careful in their selection.
It has always been said that “we read images”, however, in this second decade of the 21st century, we experienced an immersion in the iconosphere. Can we continue to maintain the structures, criteria and functions of reading with the images?
The concept of “reading” images is a lingering apology from an early time when images were considered inferior to words as a means of communication. My father was also a photojournalist. When he began his career, a photograph was only to be used to illustrate a point made by a writer. In an effort to argue against this early-20th-century prejudice, photographers argued that we also “read” photographs in effort to elevate the image in the perception of logophiles.
However, we do not initially ingest a photograph element by element, scanning left to right or top to bottom. A photograph is observed as a unit first and understood emotionally before a viewer will then explore its constituent parts if so moved. As we do with a text, we ingest the image and compare it to our understanding of world contexts, our own life experiences, prejudices and belief systems. As you observe in (Lazo, Gabelas Barroso, & Covacho, 2013) we do not consume any media in isolation.
This relates well to your observation of the iconosphere through a particularly salient American example — Dorothea Lange’s “Migrant Mother” of 1936. I write about it in Transmedia Photography (Moloney, 2018, p. 175). The image is an icon of an era. As such it tells us more about who we are than who the subject was.
This always has been a problem for both the producers and viewers of images. We producers must consider not only what we see in the moments before our eyes, but also what the distant viewer is likely to bring to the image. The viewer — though it is unlikely — should be media literate enough to know that they see the image through an individual filter. Photojournalists and editors are easy to educate on this. Viewers are not.
What processes, factors and functions have changed between the subject-reader-viewer of images in the analogue era, and the interrelationships that take place in the digital age?
Though manipulation of photographs is as old as the photograph, we lived through a period of naïve trust in images in the analog age. It was assumed to be too difficult to lie through photographs, therefore, they could be trusted. This, of course, was far from true.
The digital age has made the malleability of the photograph more evident to the general public. Digital manipulations are now far easier, and that has exposed other ways of manipulating photographs while the subject is in front of the camera. This is both good and bad, of course. The good is that the public is less naïve. Media literacy has taken a step forward. The bad is that images that contradict a viewer’s beliefs are often suspected of being manipulated, even if they are not.
What role does the image play in the toxic atmosphere of lies and postruth, what responsibility do authors, publishers, citizens have? How can they recover credibility, journalism in general, and photojournalism in particular?
Though this is an assumption not based on any data, I presume that the ease of manipulation has increased the number of manipulated images intending to deceive the public.
Responsible citizens of a democracy would hopefully confirm what they see through the multiple sources of information available on any subject. This requires time and some effort, though. There is probably a study out there that has determined what a tiny percentage of viewers of images or other content on social media undertake that task.
One of the very few remaining advantages “professional” journalists have is the argument that they are more careful, that their internal ethical codes and best practices are designed to limit error or deception. To seize this advantage would require greater transparency of the journalism process. We must be less of a “black box” mysteriously making the daily sausage. We need our readers and viewers to see inside the complexity of our process. This may also limit the impact that negative events like Jason Blair at the New York Times and others have on journalism’s credibility.
More specifically to photojournalism, both photographers and editors must make a more concerted resistance to the temptation to make or select the most dramatic image in favor of the most informative image. Photographers want viewers to latch onto and share their images on social media. “Click bait” images draw more attention. But this compounds the problem of trust rather than mitigating it. Lange’s image mentioned above does this. It is early click bait.
Before, sensory perception and direct experience was the way to access to information and knowledge. An empirical and experimental knowledge. Today the Big Data offers another type of information and knowledge. How does it affect this change in the access and process of knowledge, both the design of the algorithms and their interpretation? The images should be labeled. If you don’t do it, you are not in Google (95% of traffic in the West); if you do it, you are at the service of the computer protocols and the patterns and profiles generated by the algorithms.
This is merely a new form of curation. In prior generations information was first curated or filtered by cultural norms, deemed acceptable by tribes, governments or religions. In the Modern era it was curated and filtered by an editorial class that controlled access to the information markets — publishers in a simpler term. Now this role is taken by algorithms controlled by entities like Google, Facebook, WhatsApp and others.
When I was young I learned how to appeal to publishers so my information would get through to the public. Now we must learn how to appeal to an algorithm. In many ways an algorithm is an easier opponent, both for reporters of journalistic information and creators of disinformation.
What do you think about the following statement deserves?
“I am interested in the holistic approach, interconnected, and in the interpretative scheme, in which web content developers, interactive content developers and “lineal-story-telling” television producers can really work together, and they can really create something that is completely new, completely different. (Interview made to Krotoski, 2012, September 20) In https://docplayer.es/84364801-Palabras-clave-periodismo-digital-comunicacion-transmedia-hibridacion-de-lenguajes-audiencias-activas-ecosistema-digital-narrativas-transmedia.html
This is a good description of how I see transmedia storytelling helping journalism. Their creation, though, won’t be a single new “thing” but a logic for how the media we create interacts to inform the public. Disinformation purveyors are excellent transmedia storytellers. Journalists should battle them on these terms, or we will lose.
The use of second screens attached to the gift of ubiquity and mobility (laptops, tablets, smartphones), is it producing a new ecosystem mutation affecting producers and audiences?
This requires more planning by producers, but that planning is often neglected. The advantage of this change is that the public can double-source information if they are motivated. That act should be enabled and encouraged. This is a problem, however, for traditional media producers who depend on captive audiences for advertising. Without captive audiences such as we had in the 20th century, advertising-funded business models suffer.
Before the content was the king, today is the strategy, which necessarily passes through the platforms and their social networks, which segment, distribute and share content. Do you think this has already contributed to the creation of new journalistic formats? New stories?
Strategy is certainly important, and this is one of the core elements of effective transmedia storytelling. However, no story — no matter how innovative the platform, the strategy or the implementation — will be successful without strong content. The most technically innovative game, most interactive multimedia site or app, the most labyrinthine transmedia story will fail if the story is bad.
In your thesis Porting Transmedia Storytelling to Journalism (2011), you conclude that the stories that most lend to the transmedia story are those that obey long-term investigative journalism. Can you explain the reasons?
I have since reached a more complex conclusion. Transmedia journalism stories might be designed from the start, and here a long-term investigative piece lends itself well to the form. These stories can be serialized across media over time, and the timing and order of the interaction of the public is not critical. They are not “breaking news.” However, breaking news can be seen as a feral form of transmedia storytelling. When a disaster strikes, or a political event unfolds, the readers will assemble and contextualize the story on their own, through multiple sources in print, online, on television, through conversations online and off… Journalists sometimes build their own stories based on the work of journalists in other media companies: reporting on, reacting to, or correcting information they do not originate. If we step back from the single media company — such as the New York Times — we see reporting on Trump’s latest bizarre action or statement across many channels. Some are repetitive, others are additive, and the public assembles them into the larger picture.
Investigative journalists would benefit from designing transmedia experiences for their publics, bundling together targeted narrowcasts aimed at specific audiences. Journalists feeding a daily news cycle are benefiting more and more from understanding how their work interacts across the mediascape.
The portrait is one of the photographic techniques that arouses more emotions, it is the possibility of the subject to look through the eyes of the otherness, of whom it photographs, but also to discover himself from a external position that allows a scrutiny more effective and specific. As a professional photographer who has made multiple portraits, what do you think the human being looks for in his own portrait? And in the portrait of others?
A portrait is a game of Telephone. Do you know this game? Maybe Juego de Telefono? One child tells a brief story quietly into the ear of another who then passes it to the next. Once the story is told to the last child in line he or she is asked to repeat it. It never matches the original, and it is always funny.
This game of Telephone is evident in Lange’s portrait: First, the subject, Florence Owens Thompson, is aware of the presence of the camera and is holding herself in a way she would like to be seen. This may have no bearing on who she actually is. Perhaps she is saying to the world, “I am a thoughtful mother, concerned about when my delayed husband will return.” Dorothea Lange then sits in front of her waiting for a gesture and expression that communicates what she wants to say about the situation or the person in front of her. This may be a search for the iconic as much as the informative. Lange is likely looking to tell a wide story about the circumstance of thousands of people, not just the story of the individual woman seated in front of her. This argument is supported by the fact that Lange never asked Thompson for her name. She was not “this mother,” but “all mothers.” Then, when we view the image more than 80 years later we not only see what is in the picture, but what is outside of it, in our contextual understanding of the time. It summarizes for us the economic and environmental devastation of the Great Depression and Dust Bowl in America. It is an icon, for better or for worse.
I have long felt that the portrait is the most dangerous photojournalism genre, even though it is the most common. When we view a portrait of another person we most often only see ourselves in it. There is too little information to “know” (conocer) the subject, so we imagine far too much about them. I think images of the subject in action, within the context of their lives, is more telling. Two contemporaneous images of mothers from Spain may illustrate this well:
David Seymour’s image is of a breast-feeding mother at a land distribution meeting in Estremadura also made in 1936, left, and Robert Capa’s image is of a mother watching an air battle over Barcelona in 1939. As with Lange’s image, both of the Spanish Civil War images show women beset by the circumstances of their time.
When we look for the first time at Lange’s image we imagine Thompson thoughtfully considering her own family’s plight and that of the nation during the Depression. We believe she is considering the same contexts we are when we view the image. However, she is most likely only thinking about the strange circumstance of being photographed. From the hidden faces of the two daughters we infer that the young girls are crying when they are more likely giggling. We only see the story we expect, not the very sparse facts that are in the photograph.
It is much easier to correctly interpret the images from Spain, however. In Seymour’s image we assume that the mother is concerned about her prospects for land to work and feed her family. Though we cannot be sure of this interpretation, the odds of it being correct are much greater. In Capa’s image we see a mother staring at an aerial battle and assume she is worried for her and her daughter’s safety. These two images invite us to consider the active moments the mothers are in. These moments represent well a specific time in Spain without obscuring the stories of the women in them. Lange’s image only invites us to consider the state of a whole nation and gives us too little about Thompson. Nonetheless most viewers of Lange’s portrait feel they know her.
Portraits we see of ourselves suffer different problems. Seeing ourselves in a photograph made by another photographer is much like hearing your recorded voice for the first time. As our voice does not sound like the one that resonates in our skulls, a photograph of us does not comport with how we imagine we look.
In the morning we get up, get dressed and stand in front of a mirror. When we pause to look at ourselves freshly coiffured and nattily dressed we freeze that self-image in our minds. We adjust posture, expression, stray hairs. Then we proceed through the day imagining that we still look like that. Then we see a photograph of how we really look and it shocks us.
This obsession to being reflected in a photograph is not a current phenomenon, it has been present throughout history, how and why has the technique of portraiture evolved?
I can only guess as to why the portrait is such a salient genre. There is likely a better historian of this to consult – perhaps John Berger? Barthes? I do guess that the reason is connected to our subliminal seeing of ourselves in images of others. We can view the person and form thousands of erroneous conclusions about who they are.
Our love of personally controlled portraits of ourselves is likely connected to our wish for immortality, perpetual youth and beauty, or perpetual potency. We want to freeze what we love about ourselves. We want to show others who we imagine ourselves to be, or who we wish we were.
The image has entered a new dimension through platforms such as Instagram, which seek not only to democratize photography, but this prioritize the ability to immortalize and document our lives, how much of all that approaches what for you is the photography?
This is not the first instance of the democratization of photography. In 1888 George Eastman disrupted professional photographers with the introduction of the Kodak, the first real amateur camera. In response, photographers had to improve their game to survive. They made content and art the most important aspects of their work where before it had simply been craft. Likewise, professional photographers now must become more careful and more interpretive. Now anyone can make a technically perfect image of very standard content and publish it to millions. Thus, the professional must improve his game.
Self-documentary has always been an effort of marketing more than true documentary. It appears most of us understand this and observe personal “stories” on social platforms as such: marketing.
This presents another problem though. If the images someone posts of himself and his family obscure the difficulties, tensions, ennui, then he might assume the images produced by professional documentarians are equally suspect.
Have social networks distorted image and photo concepts or maintained the same standards? Do we talk about a radical way of understanding the image or only of the modification of the communication channel?
Social networks have sped and scaled the distribution of true and unverified or false images, but so far I do not see that the image itself has fundamentally changed form or role.
History confirms that the image has been and is manipulated. Photographic editing programs facilitate this negligent practice that is used in depending on what contexts might alter political decisions and interventions, what control is exercised in the media to avoid this fraud? How can citizens be protected against possible manipulations from fraudulent information spaces or non-professional photographers?
Transparency is the key for professional journalists. Ethics codes, fact-checking practices, concepts of double-sourcing information, discussions of when and why a source remains anonymous, the process of image preparation and selection all should be available to the readers of any channel. This may be done through FAQ-like disclosures on a site where those processes are shown. On potentially controversial stories there could be notes about “Why we selected this image” associated with a story. Not all readers would believe this information, but over time it would go a long way toward improving public trust of professional journalists. Liars could, of course, lie about this too. Therefore, linking multiple external sources and journals in a story would facilitate public information verification.
Social networks have enabled the existence of a generation of youtubers, instagramers and influencers who have built around themselves, their image and their person, a media universe that project to their followers. His image is the main value that gives meaning and gives credibility to his words. We knew that the image was powerful, but why is this attraction by the image projected by an individual of himself so bestial?
Perhaps we model what we admire. As celebrities market themselves through social media by presenting fabricated images of beauty, success and satisfaction, we take up the same roles in marketing ourselves.
Most social media photographs are derivations. They repeat popular styles and genres. New photographers always begin by copying. It is a very long and strenuous trek to forming some originality in image making. Rather than an explosion of creativity and novel seeing in social media photographs I see an entrenchment of the cliché. Social media is likely more culturally homogenizing than the mass media of the 20th century was.
This can extend to why we market ourselves the way we do. We are copying the influencers.
Lazo, C. M., Gabelas Barroso, J. A., & Covacho, E. H. (2013). Phenomenological features of digital communication: interactivity, immersion and ubiquity. Sociedad de La Información, 25.
Moloney, K. (2018). Transmedia Photography. In R. R. Gambarato & M. Freeman (Eds.), Routledge Companion to Transmedia Studies. New York, N.Y.: Routledge.
This is a sermon, so feel free to mutter an occasional amen or shout a hallelujah. And like any congregation of believers, you probably already know some of the things I’m going to say. But we are here to reinvigorate our faith, so please be seated while I take the pulpit, thump the mic and clear my throat.
You are living in the best time in history to be a photojournalist.
It may not seem like it considering the ever-present industry bad news. (Yeah, I just heard you mutter, “this guy is nuts.”) Old media is in trouble. New media is thrashing around for an economic model for news. Dayrates have been stagnant for a decade. Rights are being grabbed. Amateurs with cell phones are covering breaking news. Journalism jobs are going away. And this week Eastman Kodak slid closer to bankruptcy. But Horace Greeley, a 19th-century journalist and inveterate forward thinker once wrote, “The illusion that times that were are better than those that are, has probably pervaded all ages.”
So what makes now so great?
To start, you have an enormous array of tool choices. For a recent New York Times shoot I eagerly packed in my bag a vintage-1948 press camera, a medium-format TLR and a DSLR. I used all three on the shoot, swapping sheet-film holders, cranking 120 through a Rolleiflex and twitching images through the pixel array of the little high-tech wonder alongside them.
We are now deep enough into the digital age that the quality of that equipment has reached heights we could have only imagined a few years ago. And with the recent and expected announcements of new gear from the big digital players, we are in for astounding advancements this year.
But we also have the entire world of film cameras to use, with all those delicious differences in look, point of view, depth of field and other things that make various cameras see the world differently. As Kevin Kelly, author of the book What Technology Wants, recently told NPR,“I say there is no species of technology that have ever gone globally extinct on this planet.” Today we can still use pretty much all of the photographic technology ever invented.
Yes, you can buy color transparency films in 620 and 127 sizes (hand-cut and rolled by a few dedicated souls) and new single-use, screw-base flash bulbs (from Ireland), if you’re willing to pay the price. Online you can buy kits to make cyanotypes, argyrotypes and kallitypes. You can buy the chemicals to mix any developer formula concocted or to embrace the silvery glow of a daguerreotype. “Everything that we have made in the past,” said Kelly, “is still being made somewhere in the world today.” And it is available to us thanks to the reach of the very same Internet that has upended our old business models.
In some areas there is even expansion. More black and white films are available now than there were in 1990. With their manufacturers out from under iron curtains or no longer forced to compete for shelf space with the big three film makers, more than a dozen brands of monochrome film are readily available. Some have been made in Eastern and Central Europe for decades.
My favorite leisure camera of the moment is a folding Kodak/Nagel Vollenda 48 from the 1930s. It takes 127 film (thank you, Croatia) and gives everything at which it is aimed the feel of the decade in which the camera was made. It took the place of a digital point-and-shoot in my pocket. I love all of that variety. Sure, about all of it can be modeled with good digital technique, but art is in the process, not just the product.
And the latest round of digital technology has brought us fantastic ISO capability that will probably reach a usable six digits before we can say “existing light in a coal mine.” We now have rich color even on the extremes of exposure and more dynamic range than I could have dreamed a decade ago. Remember all those color correction filters we used to have to carry around just to get accurate color? Now they’re a button and knob on the camera or two sliders in your raw conversion software. Soon enough we may see professional light-field cameras that allow focus correction in post-production.
In an advancement that would make filmmaker/photographers like Robert Frank, William Klein, Raymond Depardon and Tim Hetherington jealous, we now have HD video available in our camera bodies with a sensor twice the size of high-end cinema film. The once high cost of entry into documentary film production has just dropped faster than one of Herman Cain‘s shoes.
The learning curve has become impossibly short as we can experiment furiously and see the result immediately. The digital age also means unprecedented speed of delivery. In the decade some have called the heyday of photojournalism — the 1980s — to get an image from a revolution in Iran meant sweet-talking a diplomat or a traveler into carrying your film on a flight from Tehran to Paris or New York. It was days from event to publication. Now with a satellite phone and a tablet computer a photojournalist can publish from Libya a split second after the image is made.
Combine the incredible power of digital photography with the variety of analog and you can do anything.
But what about that business model? Indeed the methods we’ve used for a century to make a living seem to be going away. They’re not dead yet, though, and that gives us time to transition and reinvent how photojournalists live on their good work. Almost a century ago a few business-minded photographers and a few German magazine editors created the freelance model we’ve used so far. They created that out of a vacuum that we don’t face.
Pieces of the solution for an economic puzzle are popping up all the time. In my 25-year career I’ve spent haystacks of money chasing personal projects that at best have returned break-even cash. We are driven to document whether we have a patron or not, and in the past that was just one of the costs of doing business. But now thanks to the Internet-made idea of crowdfunding a good project can have hundreds of patrons who may not only cover the cost of field production but also provide a little financial breathing room. Pay close attention to Emphas.is, Kisckstarter and IndieGoGo to see where that leads. Watch how photographers, agencies and collectives like LUCEO Images repurpose work for alternative venues and media, and then both make money and market themselves in the process. Frankly, you have it much easier than Jacob Riis did.
Keep your eyes on other media for answers as well. For example the music industry is in the grips of an economic chaos that looks remarkably like what the news media has been facing — loss of markets, lack of control over the means of distribution, ease of amateur production and distribution, and the free and open spreading of their product. Out of that, musician and entrepreneur Trent Reznor has figured out how to make piles of money from giving away most of his music. It’s the Nine-Inch Nail meets the Long Tail.
Like for Reznor, the Internet’s reach is a valuable tool for photographers to sell their work. Once forced to use agents and portfolio reps to market themselves, we now have — for better and for worse — the unfiltered channel of the Internet to find new buyers, collectors and clients. It is a crowded market out there to be sure. Everyone wields a camera, thinks they are brilliant and shares their images for free with everyone. But competition forces us to think harder, work harder and be better image makers to rise above all that noise. And this is not a new phenomenon.
When in 1888 George Eastman put the first point-and-shoot camera into the hands of the public, professional photographers across the land surely panicked about the loss of their businesses. But that and its cheap offspring, the Brownie camera, helped launch a century of stunning photography. Why should we be afraid of all the dilettantes? As photo blogger Jörg Colberg aptly put it, “Isn’t it funny that you never hear writers worry about the fact that everybody knows how to write?”
So here’s the most important fact to remember: Rather than killing the professional photographer, early 20th-century advancements allowed professionals to reinvent the art itself. In 1914 Oskar Barnack put some cine film in a new little camera he crafted in his workshop and the age of 35mm photography was born. Innovators like Kertész, Cartier-Bresson, Capa and Eisenstaedt were more than great photographers. They were revolutionaries who picked up surprising new “amateur” equipment, filled it with fast new films and revolutionized the way we see the world.
This is that moment all over again, where new and innovative technology in brilliant hands will change the paradigm. Like me you’ve daydreamed about shooting alongside the likes of those guys in the last paragraph and helping to redefine what photojournalism would be for a century. But this is your time, and you have the opportunity to upend everything just like they did.
Seize it. Foment revolution. Change the history of our art and our profession.
In the last post I started on a list of the photographers who have made the greatest influence on successive generations of photojournalists. To recap, this is a start on a “canon” to which you may contribute a suggestion. I’m looking not just for a list of the “great photographers” nor the most famous or successful. I’m looking for photographers who:
- Produced documentary work reflecting the important standards and ethics of the profession,
- Stood the test of time by repeatedly producing notable work, and
- Innovated in the art or profession by being first to adopt an important style or approach, break a barrier or rise above the limits of the day.
Think of who might have been the first to think of something or do something important. That’s a tougher standard that might be immediately apparent.
So here’s part two, the photographers that opened the 20th century. This is the generation of photographers who picked up the new small cameras that shot roll film and started documenting life in action. They created what we consider photojournalism out of a near vacuum:
Jacques Henri Lartigue — Lartigue picked up a camera as a very young boy and aimed it at his adventurous family at the end of France’s Belle Epoque. His best-remembered images are of auto races, early airplanes and cousins leaping in midair. His early images are of the fascinations of a young wealthy boy of the gilded age, but they show a joyful innocence unmatched in most documentary work. They are exuberant, ecstatic and defy the limitations of the photography of a century ago, capturing peak action and decisive moments with very slow plate cameras. To any child — which is what he was when he made his best-remembered images — there are limitless possibilities and no hard rules. His work shows the possibility in working without any adult-world-imposed constraint. He lived a long life, working as an illustrator and painter, then again as a photographer after his rediscovery by John Szarkowski and the Museum of Modern Art in the 1960s.
Alfred Stieglitz — Photojournalism is inextricably attached to the art of photography, as we make thorough use of light, form and composition in our work to change the world. No single photographer or curator did more to battle for the status in America of photography as an art or to promote its practitioners. His own work is often documentary, capturing steaming horses on cold New York mornings, and street life on the edge of night much as his European contemporaries Eugène Atget and Brassaï did in Paris. He promoted many photographers on or linked to this list, from Paul Strand and Edward Steichen to Ansel Adams who, in addition to his famous landscapes, documented the Japanese internment camps of WWII. Though his photography career crosses the 19th and 20th centuries, his influence was strongest in the years between the world wars.
Edward Steichen — Few working lives spanned more interesting changes in photography, more genre of the art and more positions of influence than those of Edward Steichen. He began his career at the dawn of the 20th century by making an amazing array of portraits of the luminaries of the day, from J.P. Morgan and Theodore Roosevelt to Pierre August Rodin, Henri Matisse and George Bernard Shaw. His portrait style has resonated through subsequent generations from Yousuf Karsh and Philippe Halsman onward. That work moved him quickly into the world of fashion where his images helped define the styles of magazines like Vogue for a generation. Himself a WWI Signal Corps aerial photo veteran, Steichen volunteered for duty in WWII, was commissioned by the navy at the rank of commander, and formed a team of photographers to document the war in the Pacific. His team included notables Wayne Miller, Charles Kerlee, Fenno Jacobs and Horace Bristol, among others. His own images, made of combat when he was already in his 60s, are notable for their capture of war action and the strange, graphic beauty of naval aircraft carriers. On war’s end, Steichen took the position as the first-ever curator of photography at the Museum of Modern Art in New York he mounted the “Family of Man” exhibition in 1955 which gathered images from around the Cold-War-stricken world to illustrate his point that, “The mission of photography is to explain man to man and each man to himself. And that is no mean function.” The massively successful exhibition helped define what photojournalism was at midcentury and influenced most of the work that has come since. Inclusion in the exhibition launched the careers of many photojournalists around the world, and the exhibition catalog has remained in print for more than 50 years.
André Kertész — Cartier-Bresson once said on behalf of himself and others of his generation, “Whatever we have done, Kertész did first.” Kertész started photographing in Hungary before WWI, and through his service in the Hungarian army in that war. After developing his style — one of intricate and graphic compositions, geometric patterns and decisive moments — he moved to Paris in 1925. His work there was warmly received, but in 1936 he accepted an offer to go to New York, both to work and escape the Nazi threat building in Europe. He stayed until just before his death in 1985. He was also an early adopter of small handheld cameras allowing him to catch fleeting moments and travel lightly. Kertész’ work is artful, perfectly crafted, subtle, delicate and deeply inspiring. In perusing it you can see not only his brilliant seeing, but premonitions of all that followed.
Paul Strand — Strand was not a self-described photojournalist and he is certainly better known as an art photographer. However he was instrumental in breaking the photography of the early 20th century away from the soft-focus romantic “pictorialism” of the day and showing that the power of the medium is crisp realism. He made powerful documentary portraits and photographic essays, and his art remained rooted firmly in the real world. And in anticipation of the early 21st century and visual journalists like Tim Hetherington, he was an accomplished cinematographer and film maker, documenting New York, the Spanish Civil War and the struggles of Mexican fishermen in his cinema career.
Erich Salomon — Advances in photojournalism come on the heels of technological advancement. From images of the still and quiet death on mid-19th-century battlefields to the galloping horses of Muybridge, film speed, camera handling and lens speed have all influenced the state of the visual art. But until the 1920s, candid, handheld photography with a small camera was a challenge. Though “press cameras” and SLRs had been around for decades, the first camera that actually allowed the kind of photography we now relish was the Ermanox. It was a 645-format plate camera with a focal plane shutter that could shoot up to 1/1000 second (also not new), but it had an incredibly fast f/1.8 lens. On that format it was as difficult to engineer and had less depth of field than a 50mm f/1.0 has in the 35mm era. Complicating its use was that the focus at that narrow depth of field was done simply by guessing the distance. The master of Ermanox use was Erich Salomon, a German Jewish law school graduate who introduced himself as “Doctor.” With little prior photo experience, Salomon picked up this new little camera (one nearly universally shunned by professionals) and started talking his way into venues where no one had yet ventured with a camera — courtrooms, political meetings, the homes of the famous. He always dressed impeccably, conducted himself with the manners of a person who might be expected to be at such scenes and made pictures either overtly or by concealing the camera. Soon his images were being published by Berliner Illustrierte Zeitung — a political weekly that had pioneered visual reporting. Salomon was fluent in several languages and a talented political observer. Politicians either loved him and invited him into their worlds, or hated him and worked to make sure he was spotted at scenes. He also pioneered the technique of handing over unexposed film with supplicating apologies when caught where he should not be, and keeping the exposed films for publication. Though he had considered emigrating to the U.S. where his images were also being used by the new illustrated weeklies, he kept putting it off until in 1943 he and his family were forced into hiding. They were betrayed by a meter reader who noticed the heavy gas consumption at the house where they were staying in Holland. Salomon was killed at Auschwitz in July 1944.
Martin Munkácsi — Munkácsi is perhaps most famous for making the image that inspired Henri Cartier-Bresson to drop a paint brush and pick up a camera. The image — of a trio of boys running into the surf of Lake Tanganyika — is his most often reproduced, thanks to HC-B. But behind that image is a career as an action photographer. In Europe before WWII he was the toast of the fashion and sports photography world. Anyone who assumes sports photography is only possible with autofocus and ten frames per second needs to look at his tightly cropped, shallow-depth, razor-sharp images of goalies diving for a save or polo riders in mid-strike made in the 1920s on 4X5 and larger plates. Skiers breaking over cornice lines, dancers in flight, and models in mid leap hallmark his work. He went to challenging lengths to get his images — laying in the surf with a bellows-focused camera to photograph swimsuit fashion in the 1930s. Like his Hungarian compatriots Andre Kertész and Robert Capa, he was drawn to the U.S. before the war, and like Kertész, he languished here among much less inventive editors and publishers.
Alfred Eisenstaedt — Eisenstaedt’s career began in Germany in the late 1920s with the illustrated press that arose there and ran into the 1990s for LIFE magazine, for which he was one of the first staff photographers in 1936. His last photographs were of Bill Clinton and family in 1993. He used small cameras from the start, making active images in low light on the heels of Erich Salomon. A few of his images are enduringly remarkable — Nazi propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels glaring with hatred, The V-J Day kiss in Times Square, a parade of gleeful children marching behind a drum major. But by today’s standards most of his images — though technically solid and timed well — seem boilerplate. We feel we’ve seen them so many times before. But what must be remembered in looking at his vast body of work documenting most of a turbulent century, is that Eisenstaedt didn’t have Eisenstaedt to emulate. He is the template for most of what we do. His journalistic sense was impeccable. Not only did he define the genre of photojournalism in how he worked, but he defined what it looks like to be a professional photojournalist. There is some Eisie in everything we do.
Henri Cartier-Bresson — He said that Kertész did it first and that Munkácsi influenced him. Can we put him on this list? I will argue yes, and not because he’s my hero of heroes. HC-B’s influence on all photojournalism since the 1940s is so wide and so deep it would be remiss to consider him derivative. His innovation comes from taking Kertész’ form and grace and combining it with Munkácsi’s timing to define that decisive-moment photojournalism and street photography we so love. He produced, directed and filmed documentary films during the Spanish Civil War and again in the U.S. in the 1970s. He fused high art and incisive journalism more directly than anyone before, and cofounded one of history’s most influential cooperatives to promote it.
Robert Capa — As seen in the last post, war photography was not new and the bon-vivant photojournalist persona was not either. But Capa amplified both to as-yet-unseen levels. Capa was a talented self-promoter, inventing a name with his collaborator Gerda Taro (also an invented name) to make his work seem more valuable to editors. He photographed and filmed conflicts from the Spanish Civil War to the Japanese invasion of China, WWII, and Indochina where he was killed in 1954. His gritty few frames of the Normandy landings on D-Day are some of the most iconic images of the biggest conflict in world history. His style and approach have influenced all war photography that has followed, from David Douglas Duncan to Larry Burrows, Don McCullin, James Nachtwey and the late Chris Hondros. His high-stakes, high-living style has become the cliched image of the gambling, loving, champagne-drinking world photojournalist, so much so that Hitchcock fictionalized him in Rear Window. And on founding Magnum with Cartier-Bresson, David “Chim” Seymour and George Rodger, he was instrumental in reclaiming rights to their images for photographers.
Walker Evans — We know Walker Evans mostly through his work for the Farm Security Administration Photography Program where he produced some of his most meaningful images. But Evans was an accomplished documentary photographer before he joined Roy Stryker’s team. More interestingly, he was fired from the FSA. Evans and his work are as straight as an arrow. He took the idea of documenting seriously, using large format cameras to meticulously correct perspective and distortion on images of simple buildings throughout Depression-era America and in Cuba. But his images are far from artless. They prove over and again that art does not need to come from gimmick or visual trickery, and that the subtlety of light, shape and content can send a powerful message about the state of a culture. SX-70 Polaroids he made in the 1960s presage even a current fascination with those films and their phone-app emulators.
Margaret Bourke-White — Bourke-White was not the first woman photographer, but she broke more glass ceilings and social barriers than any other. She was hired as a staff photographer for Fortune on the cusp of the Great Depression in 1929, was the first Western photographer allowed to photograph Soviet industry in 1930, and a staff photographer and author of the first cover of LIFE magazine in 1936. Like her contemporary, Dorothea Lange, she photographed the dire conditions of the Great Depression, and authored a book (with then-husband Erskine Caldwell), Have You Seen Their Faces. She was the first authorized woman combat correspondent of WWII. Her images of the Nazi death camp at Buchenwald are some of the principle historical evidence of Nazi atrocities. With Cartier-Bresson she photographed the partition of India and Pakistan and the violence it spawned, and made moving portraits of Mohandas K. Gandhi on the eve of his assassination. Her autobiography, Portrait of Myself, is a valuable read for any photographer.
Gordon Parks — Parks was a classic Renaissance man: A concert pianist, composer, photographer, writer, and filmmaker. There were black photographers before him, but none who elbowed his or her way through the discrimination of the day as effectively as him. He was born in Kansas and began his adult life as a railroad porter, but as a very young man he picked up a camera to photograph the plight of migrant workers. He progressed from that first roll to photographing fashion in St. Paul, which caught the eye of Joe Louis’ wife Marva. From there he branched to portraits of black society women in Chicago and on to documentary work about Chicago’s South Side in the Depression. An exhibition of that work caught the eye of Roy Stryker who gave him a fellowship with the FSA. His first images there struck right at the heart of how the nation’s Capitol treated its black workers. After the FSA disbanded, Parks moved to Harlem where he worked for Vogue and then LIFE where he was the first black journalist. He photographed Malcom X, Stokely Carmichael, Muhammad Ali and produced a book-length essay on an orphan in a Brazilian slum. But that was just his photography career. He was also a successful novelist and poet, and wrote and directed the 1971 “blaxploitation” hit movie Shaft, for which he also wrote the score and popular theme.
Manuel Álvarez Bravo — Like others on this list, he described himself as a photographer, not a photojournalist. And like others he was a surrealist above all in the early 20th century. But his often political work brought attention to the struggles of a nation. His portraits, art and surrealism inspired generations of photographers from Tina Modotti to Graciela Iturbide, Flor Garduño, Miguel Rio Branco and Cristina García Rodero. He was the first Latino photographer to rise to prominence, and he helped define the style of a hemisphere.
The Farm Security Administration Photography Program — Walker Evans, Dorothea Lange, Arthur Rothstein, Gordon Parks, Jack Delano, Russell Lee, Carl Mydans, John Vachon and Marion Post Wolcott. It was the dream team of documentary photography, assembled by economist Roy Stryker to photograph the plight of the American farmer during the Great Depression. The purpose was propaganda, really. But neither Stryker nor his photographers felt they needed to create advertising. The truth of the American economic situation spoke for itself, and as a result we have an incredible document of America at one of its most difficult points. Many of the photographs are the icons of that age, burned into the retinas of Americans born more than a half century after they were made. Most of the photographers went on to long photojournalism careers for LIFE, Look and other popular magazines. Mydans, who with his reporter wife spent time in a Japanese prison camp after the fall of the Philippines, made one of the iconic images of the Pacific War. Stryker carefully populated his staff to allow access to both genders and as many races as possible, to leave no group undocumented. Their work forms a template for cooperative documentary projects and expands on the social documentary started by Riis a half-century earlier. With every subsequent economic crisis, their work has been republished and emulated.
Please note, all images on this post are linked directly from the originating sites rather than downloaded and republished. Please forgive any dead links.